Somewhere in the modern world known as Earth, a classroom buzzed softly with the dull drone of routine. Students sat in neat rows of desks, notebooks open, pens in hand, eyes glazed as a teacher scribbled notes on the whiteboard. Most were attentive, or at least trying to be, but one figure sat apart — in the very back, alone.
Ezra Carter.
Eighteen years old, with hair split clean down the middle — black on one side, silver on the other — and gold eyes that never truly rested. A loner. Cold. Dark. Clever. Smart. Hardworking. Sneaky. Ordinary, if being emotionally numb and sharp as a scalpel could ever be considered ordinary.
He sat silently, eyes locked on nothing in particular, his mind far from the lecture.
"Ezra Carter!"
The teacher's voice snapped across the room like a whip. "Care to rejoin us in reality?"
Whispers stirred.
"He never talks."
"Creepy."
"Total edge lord."
"He's always brooding. It's weird."
Ezra looked up slowly, his gaze empty but piercing. He said nothing. Just returned to his trance-like silence, unfazed by the buzz around him.
Then came the bell.
The class rushed out like released steam. Laughter. Shouts. A flood of youthful chatter. The teacher left in a huff. And Ezra stayed.
Alone.
They're all noise, he thought. Annoying. Pointless. I don't belong here.
He finally stood, slinging his worn backpack over his shoulder, and walked out. The school's cold hallways gave way to the city's bustling streets — concrete veins running through a steel heart. He wandered aimlessly, lost in thought.
Life's just repetition. Wake up, fake it, repeat. Everyone pretending they're okay. I know better.
FLASHBACK
The sky was gray that day. Rain pattered against the windshield of the car. Ezra sat in the backseat, earbuds in, eyes blank as music muffled the world.
His mother turned around, smiling gently. "Ezra, take those out. We're almost home."
He sighed but did as told. "Yeah, okay."
His father chuckled from the driver's seat. "Can't believe our boy's about to graduate."
Ezra looked out the window, a flicker of warmth in his gold eyes. "Yeah. Thanks for driving me to the prep center."
"We're proud of you," his mom said, reaching back and squeezing his hand.
Then—the headlights.
A truck, speeding through a red light.
Ezra's mother screamed.
"Hold on!" his father shouted.
The impact came like a god's hammer.
The world turned white, then red, then black.
Glass exploded. Metal screamed. Ezra was flung sideways, pain lancing through his skull.
When he came to, everything was upside down. The car had flipped. Rain dripped through the broken windows.
"Mom?" he croaked. "Dad?"
His vision blurred as he turned.
His mother's face was pale. Eyes open. Lifeless.
His father was slumped over the steering wheel, blood soaking the dashboard.
"No…" Ezra gasped, trying to crawl toward them, but pain kept him pinned.
"I should've died too…" he whispered.
The sirens were faint. The world began to fade again.
Why was I the only one?
Back in the present, Ezra blinked, the memory retreating like a scar into the shadows.
Suddenly — the sky darkened. The air grew heavy.
A radiant magic circle blazed beneath Ezra's feet, pulsing with ancient runes and blinding light.
"What the hell—?" he muttered, trying to move.
But his body wouldn't obey. He began to float.
Am I dreaming? What is this?! he screamed inside, eyes wide as the circle flared, swallowing him whole.
He vanished.
In another place, a flash of the same light erupted. A second magic circle glowed fiercely as two figures materialized midair.
Ezra and a stranger beside him dropped to their knees on a glowing, rune-etched platform. Their breathing was ragged. Their eyes wide.
They rose slowly, facing each other.
The boy beside Ezra was all contrast — athletic build, brushed-back blond hair that gleamed like a polished coin, and sharp emerald green eyes. His uniform marked him as a student, though not from Ezra's world.
"I'm Leonel Grayson. Call me Leo. You?"
Ezra studied him a second. "Ezra Carter."
Leo glanced around. "Where the hell are we?"
Ezra narrowed his eyes. "Not home. Not Japan, either."
They turned, stunned to find themselves standing in the center of a vast, throne room cathedral. Marble floors etched with silver magic. Floating crystal chandeliers. Red and gold banners hung like divine wings.
Behind them, nobles, mages, knights, and priests stood in stunned silence.
Flanking the summoning circle, priests in crimson and white stared slack-jawed. Nearby, high-ranking mages clutched their staffs, some pale with shock. Holy knights knelt, spears planted, watching the two with suspicion.
Where... what is this? Ezra thought.
A calm, powerful voice rang out.
"Welcome, summoned hero. I am King Alaric Vandarion III."
Ezra and Leo both turned sharply.
A tall figure approached, descending from his throne. His royal blue cloak trailed behind him. Silver crown glinting over black and gray hair. Steel-blue eyes scanned the two.
"We are honored by your presence in our time of need."
He paused.
Eyes narrowed. Confusion rising.
"Wait… there are two of you?"
Gasps echoed through the throne room. The nobles erupted into murmurs.
"Another one?"
"This has never happened before."
"Was it a mistake?"
"An accident summoning?"
The king turned to his mages. "Archmage Thalorin, didn't you say the ritual was to summon one?"
From behind, an older man stepped forward.
Thin, wiry, mid-sixties. Violet irises with glowing rune-rings. Long, braided gray hair, held with silver beads. A deep obsidian robe and a staff that pulsed with quiet power.
Thalorin's voice was cold and analytical. "The ritual was flawless. Only one soul should have responded. This… anomaly… should not be possible."
Nobles whispered again.
"Which one's the true summon?"
"Who's the extra?"
Leo scowled, noticing the attention shifting toward Ezra.
Why's everyone looking at him? I'm the chosen one, not that brooding stray.
He forced a grin. "Well, I'm the one you meant to summon, right? This guy just... tripped in."
Ezra folded his arms. "Yeah. And I landed in your spotlight."
The king nodded thoughtfully. "Despite the anomaly, perhaps this is fate. The gods may have chosen both of you for a reason unknown to us."
He turned to face them fully.
"Welcome, brave souls from another world. You now stand in the Kingdom of Vireldra."
He looked at Leo… but his gaze lingered on Ezra.
There was something in Ezra — something hidden, dark, powerful.
And dangerous.
Leo looked at the king, brows furrowed. "Why did you summon us here?"
But before King Alaric could speak, another voice — smooth and commanding — echoed through the throne room.
"You were summoned here because we need your help... to defeat the Demon Lord who is awakening."
Both Ezra and Leo turned sharply to the source of the voice.
Ascending beside the king's throne was a second, slightly elevated seat — and upon it sat a woman of regal beauty. Her platinum-blonde hair shimmered under the chandelier's crystal light. Her glacial violet eyes studied the two summoned strangers with intelligent calm. A crown rested upon her head.
She was tall, elegant, composed — the embodiment of royalty.
Leo blinked in surprise. "Who are you?"
King Alaric glanced at her, then turned to the boys. "This is my wife."
The woman inclined her head slightly, her voice carrying with serene power. "I am Queen Seraphina Vandarion."
Ezra and Leo were struck silent for a moment, taken aback at the realization they were addressing the queen of a kingdom.
"I am Leonel 'Leo' Grayson," Leo said quickly, a confident smile forming. "But call me Leo."
The queen nodded once, politely.
Her violet eyes then turned toward the other young man.
Ezra met her gaze with his own unreadable one. "Ezra Carter."
She gave another nod, thoughtful and composed.
Then she turned to the side, to a smaller throne placed delicately beside hers. Sitting there was a young woman — perhaps seventeen — with long, soft silver-blonde hair tied in an elegant braid, wrapped in a velvet ribbon. Her iridescent lavender eyes glowed with curiosity and kindness. A small crown rested atop her head.
"This is our daughter," Queen Seraphina said, smiling softly. "The Princess of Vireldra."
The girl stood with gentle poise. "I am Princess Elira Vandarion of the Vireldra Kingdom. It's an honor to meet you, Summoned Hero Leo."
Leo gave a flourishing bow. "The honor is mine, Princess." His grin widened.
Princess Elira turned to Ezra and offered a polite nod. "And you, Ezra Carter."
Ezra remained still, uncertain. He gave a small nod in return, trying to understand his place in this world.
"How do I go back home?" Ezra asked flatly, eyes focused on the king.
A shadow of regret passed over King Alaric's face. "I'm sorry... but the summoning ritual only works one way. There is no return."
Ezra said nothing. He didn't flinch, didn't frown. He simply stood, absorbing the truth in silence.
Leo's thoughts churned. I'm the hero. Ezra's just background noise. And yet… he's getting attention. Even from the princess. Maybe even the queen. Hah... I'll win them over. All of them.
Leo cleared his throat, turning to the king. "How am I supposed to defeat this Demon Lord if I don't even have powers or skills?"
The king turned to Archmage Thalorin Greymist. The aged mage nodded solemnly.
"The magic system of this world is bound by ancient law. You must learn to access your status. Each of you has one. Simply say the words: 'Open Status.'"
Ezra remained quiet, intrigued. Worth a shot, he thought.
In unison, both Ezra and Leo said, "Open Status."
A violet screen shimmered into existence before each of their eyes — hovering, glowing, pulsing with strange runes and numbers.
Ezra blinked. So this is what they meant… a status screen? Like a game?
He leaned in to read the strange, glowing data.
The violet light of the status screen shimmered in front of Ezra's eyes. Lines of glowing text unfolded across the translucent panel, forming words in a language he somehow understood instinctively.
Name: Ezra Carter
Age: 18
Race: Human (Otherworlder)
Level: 1
Class: Gluttony Mage
Titles: Summoning Accident, The Unchosen
HP: 250
MP: 400
Strength: 9
Agility: 12
Endurance: 11
Mana: 460
Luck: 4
Charm: 6
Hunger Level: Moderate
Normal Skills:
Appraisal: Allows the user to analyze objects, beings, and magical phenomena, revealing information such as stats, skills, and weaknesses.
Ability Skills: —
Magic Skills: —
Unique Skill:
Devour: Absorbs the essence of defeated enemies, allowing potential assimilation of their skills, attributes, or magical traits. May increase hunger level significantly. Highly unstable and considered forbidden.
Weapons: None
Items: None
Ezra's eyes narrowed.
Gluttony Mage? Summoning Accident? Devour? he thought, heart tightening. What even is this class? And only two skills?
He clenched his fists. "Appraisal… and Devour. That's all I've got?"
As he said it aloud, his golden eyes momentarily flared crimson before fading back to gold.
Gasps rippled through the court.
"He only has two skills?" whispered one of the nobles.
"Devour? That's not a hero's power…" said another mage, suspiciously.
"A cursed class?" a knight muttered.
King Alaric and Queen Seraphina exchanged looks.
"A Gluttony Mage… I've never heard of such a thing," the king said under his breath.
"It sounds… unstable," the queen responded softly, yet sharply. "Like it was never meant to exist."
Meanwhile, Princess Elira studied Ezra with quiet intensity, her thoughts swirling. Devour… Is that why he feels different? That skill… it doesn't sound ordinary. Or safe.
Then a sudden voice erupted beside Ezra.
"AWESOME!"
Leo grinned from ear to ear, staring wide-eyed at his own status screen.
Ezra leaned over slightly to glance at Leo's screen.
Name: Leonel "Leo" Grayson
Age: 18
Race: Human (Otherworlder – Hero Variant)
Level: 1
Class: Radiant Hero
Titles: Chosen of the Light, Hero of Prophecy, Savior of the Realm, Worldwalker
HP: 700
MP: 300
Strength: 20
Agility: 18
Endurance: 21
Mana: 290
Luck: 22
Charm: 25
Normal Skills:
Swordsmanship: Proficient in all forms of melee sword combat.
Battle Intuition: Enhances reflexes and decision-making during combat.
Bravery Aura: Boosts morale of nearby allies and reduces fear effects.
Enhanced Recovery: Accelerates healing from injuries and fatigue.
Ability Skills:
Holy Light Slash: Channels divine energy into a powerful sword strike.
Hero's Step: Grants brief bursts of speed and agility.
Mana Channeling: Enhances physical attacks by infusing them with magic.
Divine Guard: Temporarily creates a holy shield that absorbs damage.
Magic Sword Skills:
Lightblade Manifestation: Summons a blade of pure light.
Blessed Strike: Delivers a consecrated blow that burns evil.
Holy Cleave: Sweeping attack that deals radiant damage in an arc.
Unique Skill:
Divine Authority – Hero's Radiance: Boosts all stats when protecting innocents or fighting evil. Grants resistance to fear, curses, and mind control. Can invoke divine will once per week for powerful miracle-level effects.
Weapons: Goddess-Forged Sword [Lightfang]
Items: Hero's Token, Blessed Mantle
Leo practically sparkled.
"Man, I'm stacked!" he laughed. "Look at this gear! And all these abilities!"
Then he glanced over at Ezra's screen and forced a smile.
"Hey, uh… don't worry about it, Ezra. It's okay to have one skill. Everyone starts somewhere, right?"
But inside, Leo was cackling.
Two skills? A Gluttony Mage? What a joke. The guy's a walking accident. He's not even supposed to be here. And yet… he's standing next to me. Unbelievable.
Ezra's expression remained unchanged. But inside, something dark began to stir.
The nobles and royal mages gathered in murmurs of excitement, eyes glowing as they gazed at Leo's status screen. Their voices swelled with praise.
"Amazing… he has Divine Authority."
"So many skills! Truly a Radiant Hero."
"This is the one the prophecy spoke of!"
"He's perfect… blessed by the gods themselves!"
King Alaric and Queen Seraphina exchanged thoughtful glances.
"He will become unstoppable in time," the king whispered. "His power… it will only grow."
Queen Seraphina nodded. "With such strength, he may truly defeat the Demon Lord. He is what Vireldra has waited for."
Princess Elira looked at Leo with awe. His light… it's almost blinding. So much strength. But… is power all there is to a hero?
Leo soaked in the attention, basking in the praise.
This is it, he thought. I'm the Radiant Hero. The greatest of all time. They'll all love me. I'll be their savior. Their champion. Their king. And Ezra? He'll always be behind me.
Ezra, silently watching, could see Leo for what he was — proud, hungry for validation, power-thirsty. But he said nothing.
Let him have his stage, Ezra thought. What am I supposed to do now, if I can't go home?
Then the king stepped forward.
"Radiant Hero Leo, and Ezra… I would like you both to meet some of our kingdom's most important figures."
He gestured beside him. From the shadows emerged a man dressed like a high priest — tall, thin, and severe, with a presence like a coiled vulture.
"I am Cardinal Vexim of the Holy Flame," the man said, voice laced with sharp reverence. "Leader of the Church of Vireldra."
Leo smiled, bowing slightly. "It's an honor to meet a man of your status."
Cardinal Vexim returned the smile — cold and calculating. "The pleasure is all mine, Radiant Hero Leo."
Then he turned his gaze to Ezra. Cold gold eyes locked on him. A fake smile followed.
"And you… the accidental summon. I'm truly sorry you were pulled from your home. I do hope you can find peace here."
Ezra met his stare without blinking. He knew that tone — that mask. I've seen that face before. You want me gone.
Next, the king gestured to a young girl standing beside Vexim.
She was graceful, with snow-white hair and gentle crystal blue eyes. She wore soft white and gold priestess robes, a sunburst-topped relic staff in hand.
"I am Saintess Mireille," she said, bowing her head. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Radiant Hero Leo… and you, Ezra Carter."
Leo beamed. "It's wonderful to meet you, Saintess. I hope we'll get to know each other well."
I want her, Leo thought. She's pure, divine… perfect. And she'll stand by my side. I'll make sure of it.
Ezra gave a polite nod. Nothing more.
Cardinal Vexim smiled again. "You will be his light, Mireille. The boy is young, proud, and blessed. But blessings without guidance become wildfire. He is the blade. You are the hand that steadies it."
Leo grinned. Perfect. She'll be in my party. I'll shine so bright, she won't look anywhere else.
Vexim continued. "He must not stray from the Flame's path. And if he does… you must bring him back."
"I will," Mireille said softly. "I will do all I can to help the Radiant Hero and protect this realm."
"Good," Vexim said. "Make the Church proud."
Then the king turned to the other side. A tall, lean man stepped forward — noble in bearing, with raven-black hair swept back, steel-gray eyes, and a dark violet military coat.
"I am Duke Malrec Ravonis," he said calmly. "Duke of Duskmarch. Grand Strategist of the Northern Wall."
He looked at Leo. "It is a pleasure, Sir Leo. The kingdom finally has its hero."
Leo smiled. "I won't let you down, Your Grace."
Duke Malrec then turned his gaze briefly to Ezra. A nod. Measured. Calculating.
Ezra nodded back.
"That is everyone," said the king. "Leo — you begin your training today. You'll need it when facing the Demon Lord's forces."
Leo straightened. "I'm ready. Let's show those demons what happens when they cross the Radiant Hero."
"Good," King Alaric said. "Instructors await you at the training grounds."
Leo turned to leave, then glanced back with a smug grin. "See you around, Ezra."
Ezra nodded. "Yeah."
He thinks he's the only one who matters, Ezra thought.
As Leo left, he laughed inwardly. The real deal. The kingdom needs me. I've got the church on my side… and soon, the princess too. Ezra? Just a misstep.
The nobles, mages, Vexim, and Malrec followed, offering goodbyes to the royal family — but none to Ezra.
Silence remained.
Ezra stood before the king, queen, and princess.
King Alaric stepped forward. "Why don't you train as well, Ezra? See what your powers can do."
Ezra stared for a long moment. He's being kind. Unexpected.
"Yes," said Queen Seraphina. "Push your limits. Discover what lies within."
Princess Elira smiled, walking forward. "Stay here at the palace. We can help you. You don't have to be alone."
Ezra looked at the three of them — a royal family, united. Then a memory of his parents flashed before him. Their smiles. The crash. The silence.
He looked down, fists clenched.
Elira saw the shift. "Are you… okay?"
Ezra shook his head. "I appreciate your kindness. But I can't stay here. I have to do this my own way."
The king regarded him with quiet respect. There's a fire in this boy… a will like steel.
He laughed and nodded. "Very well, my boy. If that is your wish."
He gestured to an attendant.
The man approached, presenting a tray with a black and crimson knife and a heavy bag.
The king offered them. "A gift, for your journey. This blade… and eighty million gold. Use them well."
Ezra blinked. "...Thank you."
He took the gifts.
"Good luck, Ezra Carter," said the king.
"Be careful," added the queen. "Stay healthy."
Princess Elira smiled gently. "Come back safe someday."
Ezra gave a final nod and followed the attendant out of the palace.
Outside, he looked up at the sky, breathed deeply, and exhaled.
So this is it. A new world. A new path.
His journey had begun.
Ezra walked through the streets of the city, the grand silhouette of the royal palace fading behind him. His boots clacked softly against the stone, the steady rhythm keeping time with his swirling thoughts.
What now? I'm alone. No allies. Just this 'Devour' skill and a bag of gold. What even is this world? And what am I supposed to do in it?
The streets were alive — bustling with life and voices.
"He's here! The Radiant Hero was summoned today!"
"I heard he glowed like the sun itself!"
"They say he carries a sword forged by a goddess!"
Ezra slowed, listening.
"Father said the Radiant Hero will drive back the Demon Lord!"
"He'll save us all! Just like the prophecies said!"
Groups of children ran past him, laughing and yelling.
"I bet he's already fought monsters!"
"I heard he has wings!"
"No way! He can fly?"
Ezra sighed under his breath. Of course… Leo. The hero. The radiant one. The golden boy.
More adults chimed in from corners and market stalls.
"Imagine being there when he appeared. A true hero of light."
"Did you hear? The queen herself welcomed him. Even the saintess is by his side."
"He's going to be the most powerful person in the realm."
Ezra kept walking.
He's already a legend in one day. I haven't even figured out what the hell I am yet.
Vendors lined the streets.
"Fresh berries! Imported from Nareth!"
"Sizzling meat skewers! Spiced and smoked!"
"Best cloaks in Vireldra!"
Ezra passed a blacksmith hammering away, the sharp clang echoing through the street. He passed shops filled with leather goods, tools, even magical trinkets. But one storefront made him stop.
A clothes shop — modest, but clean, with cloaks, tunics, boots, and belts hanging neatly in the window.
Ezra looked down at himself.
I can't keep walking around in these old world clothes. I stick out too much.
He walked in. A small bell above the door chimed.
"Welcome!" called the shopkeeper — a cheerful older woman with measuring tape around her neck.
Ezra nodded. "Just looking."
He browsed silently, eyes scanning the rows of garments until he found them — sleek, dark pieces. A long black and silver jacket. Matching fingerless gloves. Trim black pants with subtle silver accents. They looked durable and stylish. Just his style.
"I'll take these," he said.
He brought them to the counter, paid, and slipped into the dressing room. As he changed, he glanced in the mirror.
The new clothes hugged his frame perfectly — sharp, functional, intimidating in just the right way. The jacket flared just past the waist. The gloves fit like armor.
He gave a faint nod.
Much better.
Back outside, he continued through the city, the lanterns now glowing as evening settled in. He passed alleyways, bustling taverns, and open squares with street performers dancing or singing tales of the hero.
"In the east he will rise, a light to burn the dark," one bard sang. "The Radiant Hero, forged by fate's spark."
Ezra rolled his eyes. Already songs? Unbelievable.
Eventually, he stopped.
The Broken Chalice Inn & Tavern
A two-story structure, stone base and oak upper floor, its walls reinforced with old enchanted beams. Cracks ran through the foundation, but the building stood sturdy and proud.
The sign above the door showed a golden chalice split jaggedly in two. Wrought iron lanterns flickered above the door. A stable lay off to the side.
Fogged windows. Iron bars. Ezra stared at the building.
Not the prettiest place… but it feels real. Lived-in.
He pushed the door open.
The moment he stepped in, the warmth of the hearth washed over him. Roasting meat, spilled ale, and burning oak filled the air. The room was dim but inviting — thick wooden beams overhead, shadows dancing on smoke-darkened walls.
And then — silence.
Several heads turned.
A few voices murmured.
"Newcomer."
"Another outsider?"
"Look at those eyes…"
Ezra ignored them, stepping inside. The old man behind the bar didn't move — just kept polishing a mug, watching with a quiet, unreadable gaze.
Then a voice broke the silence — smooth, confident.
"Hello. Welcome to the Broken Chalice."
She walked toward him — a half-elf woman with toned arms, wavy ash-blonde hair, and piercing green-gold eyes. Her dress was plain but well-fitted. Her boots stomped like someone used to running, fighting, and surviving.
"I'm Nia Aeralis. Barmaid. What can I do for you?"
Ezra met her eyes. "A room. And a meal."
She looked him over. "Alright. That'll be—"
He dropped a gold coin on the counter.
Her eyes widened. "This is way too much!"
Ezra shrugged. "It's fine."
She hesitated, then took the coin with a soft laugh. "Alright then, big spender. Here's your key — Room 3. Food's coming up."
Ezra nodded, took the key, and walked toward the stairs.
As Nia returned to the bar, the old man raised an eyebrow.
"New customer?"
Nia nodded. "Yeah. Cold, but polite. Quiet type."
The old man — Granz "Iron-Leg" Dorran, former adventurer turned innkeeper — gave a small grunt.
"He's got the look. Saw it in a lot of recruits back in the day. Something wounded but sharp. Watch him."
"You think he's trouble?" Nia asked.
Granz smirked. "I think he's interesting."
Upstairs, Ezra walked down the hall… and turned a corner —
—and bumped into someone.
"Hey—ouch!"
A skinny boy, maybe fifteen, hit the ground. Messy brown hair, bright amber eyes, oversized clothes.
Ezra looked down. "Sorry, kid."
"Who're you calling kid—" the boy started, then froze when he saw Ezra's golden eyes.
Ezra extended a hand.
The boy stared, then took it. "I'm Tim. Nice to meet you."
Ezra gave a slow nod. "Ezra."
As Ezra walked away, Tim watched him go, wide-eyed.
That guy's like something out of the stories… he thought. Like a legend, but real.
Ezra reached Room 3. He unlocked it, stepped inside.
The room was quiet. Cozy. A wooden bed with warm blankets. A small table. A single lantern casting flickering light. A window to the moonlit city.
He sat on the bed and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
What a day... I was summoned, ignored, insulted, and now I'm here. Alone. No path. No purpose yet. But I'm still standing. That's something.
He exhaled slowly, letting the silence settle in.
Ezra lay on the bed in the quiet of Room 3, his eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling above. The distant sounds of the tavern below were muffled, almost ghostly. For a while, he didn't move — just breathed.
What should I do now? This world… it's not home. There's no going back. I need to figure out how to survive. How to become stronger.
He sat up slowly and muttered, "Open Status."
A faint shimmer, and then the violet screen appeared in front of him. He focused on his Unique Skill.
Unique Skill: Devour
Description: Devour allows the user to absorb the essence of defeated enemies. Upon absorption, there is a chance to gain one or more of the following: a portion of the enemy's attributes, a skill, or a fragment of their memory or knowledge. Hunger level increases with each use. Higher-tier creatures offer greater rewards — and greater risks. Effectiveness and control increase with proficiency. Caution advised: unstable at low levels.
Ezra narrowed his eyes.
Absorb… essence. Skills. Knowledge. I can grow stronger by taking from the things I defeat. That's… dangerous. But powerful.
He leaned back slightly. If this is the path I've been given, then I'll walk it. I'll figure this out — one fight at a time.
Just then, a knock echoed at the door.
Ezra stood and opened it.
There stood the half-elf barmaid, Nia, with a tray of steaming food in her hands.
"Hey," she said, flashing a casual smile. "Your food's ready."
Ezra looked down at the tray. Roasted meat, a thick slice of bread, and a bowl of vegetable stew — all warm and fragrant.
He nodded once. "Thanks."
"No problem," Nia said, handing him the tray. "Let me know if you want anything else."
She turned to leave.
"Wait," Ezra said.
Nia paused and looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?"
"I've got a question," Ezra said. "Is there an adventurer's guild nearby? I need work."
Nia's eyes lit up. "Yeah, actually. Just down the street — you'll see a tall building with an iron wolf sigil out front. That's the Iron Fang Adventurer Guild. Good reputation. Honest folk. It's a solid place to start."
Ezra nodded. "Good to know."
"Anything else?" Nia asked.
"No. Thanks."
She nodded and turned — then stopped again, a thought crossing her face. She looked back.
"Hey, I didn't catch your name."
Ezra paused. "Ezra… Ezra Carter."
She smiled faintly. "Ezra. Nice to meet you, Ezra Carter."
He nodded once.
"Alright. See you around," she said, then turned down the hall.
As she walked away, she smiled to herself. Ezra Carter… Mysterious guy. Definitely not an average traveler.
Ezra returned to his desk and set the tray down. He picked up a spoon and began to eat slowly. The stew was simple but filling. The bread was soft and fresh, the meat roasted to perfection.
As he ate, he felt something shift inside him — a faint burn in his stomach. His eyes flashed red for a split second before returning to gold.
So my hunger level drops when I eat… this skill really is tied to more than just combat. It's part of me.
He looked out the window. The sky had darkened. Stars blinked faintly over the rooftops.
I'll go to the guild tomorrow. Iron Fang. I need work. I need to fight. I need to grow.
That's all I've known since the crash.
Survive. No matter what.
He stood up and crossed the room slowly, resting his hands on the windowsill.
This world is cruel. Just like mine became. But if I can master Devour… if I can outlast it… maybe I can find a reason for being here.
He turned away from the window, eyes growing heavy.
He lay back on the bed once more. The quiet hum of the city lulled him as his thoughts slowed.
No going back… but maybe, just maybe… I can move forward.
His eyes closed.
Sleep took him.
To be continued...